


feminine.

by winonasawyer



Category: Ratched (TV)
Genre: Character Study, F/F, Implied Sexual Content, Introspection, Non-Graphic Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:48:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29475741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winonasawyer/pseuds/winonasawyer
Summary: “thanks for this, mildred,” he says, brushing a hand over his balding head, “we should do this again, yeah?”she can’t answer. he nods to himself and walks out the door- not even bothering to say goodbye as he closes the door behind him.(mildred just sits, covered in cum and tired; still hearing the damn elephants and music- and cries.)AKA, what happens when i refuse to take my melatonin pills and get upset over mildred ratched (again.)
Relationships: Gwendolyn Briggs/Mildred Ratched, Mildred Ratched (Ratched) & Original Character(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 51





	feminine.

**Author's Note:**

> i literally wrote this in two hours bc i refused to go to bed. what. is. wrong. with. me. 
> 
> [WARNING: this fic contains references to sexual assault and child abuse. any grammatical errors are mine and mine alone- so if you see them please don’t roast the shit out of me.]

-

his cock is huge in her mouth. 

it tastes of sweat and precum; and something dirtier- something that makes mildred want to hurl (or bite his dick off.) she doesn’t though; and his sweaty, nasty cock continues to ram its way down mildred’s mouth. 

“yeah, you like that, baby?” the man- no, charles- groans his way around the question; gripping her brown hair in a tight grip with his fists. he’s sweating- all jerky thrusts and red cheeks- and when he shoves his cock that much further down mildred’s throat, he lets out a long moan. (mildred just stares forward; her lips swollen and her guts out on the floor- leaving her so fucking empty.) 

“fuck,” charles shivers- a spurt of his cum shooting down her throat. (it tasted horrible, but mildred didn’t pull away. she couldn’t.)

white stains mildred’s throat and lips- and when she tries to wipe it away, charles simply swats her hands, forcing her down on her back like she’s nothing more than a sack of potatoes. stars explode from behind her eyes, and mildred scrambles to get back into an upright position. she feels so small and childish; and she curses herself for feeling that way at all. (this was normal; she thinks. all of it, so would she stop acting like a prude and get it over with?)

“wait,” she gasps when his hands rip her nightgown from the middle. “slow down, please i-“

charles doesn’t answer; still ripping away at her (and her clothes) like paper until she lies naked and exposed. she wishes to cover herself; but her hands have turned to stone and all she can do is watch as he manipulates her legs to his desire. she’s spread open for him; and all mildred wants to do is sob. (get a hold of yourself.) 

“you wear this pretty little thing all for me?”

his fingers are running up and down the white cloth; harsh and rough and completely missing her clit. she thinks he could tear through them with just his fingertips alone, and the thought sends a chill down her spine. “please, wait, i-“

“don’t worry doll face,” he rasps against her (dry, painfully dry) center; pulling her lacy underwear down with his teeth. “i’ll go slow.”

mildred clenched her fists as charles lined up his cock to her entrance. (he pushed in roughly- not slow in the slightest.) “please,” she whines, feeling tears trickle down her cheeks. “it hurts.. i, please.”

“you ain’t never had someone as big me, huh? fuck, you’re so tight around me…”

he shoved his dick further into her, splitting her in half and not even noticing. blood burst from under mildred’s nails- and she clenched them even harder at the feel of it. her mind was scrambled, stirred like eggs and just as useless.  
she felt as if her nerves had been fried; shooting little sparks of pain from her core to her stomach. (he would break her, she was sure of it.) 

“please…” her pleas were seen as begs for more, and charles thrusted faster because of it. she was sobbing now, messy trails of snot and tears staining her flushed face. elephants were trumpeting in her ears, and oh god, it was so loud. mildred could hear his breathing; heavy and strained from arousal piercing the air, the wet slaps when he bottomed out in her, and her heart beating rampant in her chest. if she strained- she could hear music coming from the walls; creeping under and through the brick like weeds in a garden. 

“fuck..” his cock feels like that of fire- like someone replaced it with burning metal, or prickling cacti. it stretches her out, and mildred’s sure this is when the pleasure starts- but it doesn’t. it still fucking hurts; and everything is so loud, and charles doesn’t even seem to care. he’s groaning out how tight she is, how pretty she looks with her tits bouncing like that- and oh, mildred, can we do this again? can i fuck you again? god, you’re so tight, mildred- i’m going to cum, mildred. (she feels sick, but it doesn’t show on her face. it can’t, and she knows it well.) 

charles is getting jerky, his hips stuttering and his eyes closed completely in pleasure. he brings a hand up to her neck, and mildred can’t even say anything when he squeezes. all of the air gets sucked from her lungs, and she chokes and coughs and silently begs for him to let go. he doesn’t- grip still strong even as he pulls out and splatters his cum over the soft of her belly. she’s half certain she’s tinged blue; for the stars are back and so are the elephants and the fucking music is getting louder. she tries to pull him off- but he has her on her knees before she can even blink. 

“you don’t mind if i fuck you like this, right?”

(her throat is raw, she can’t say anything. what did he say again?)

mildred gulps up air, her face and body flushed red and dripping sweat. she thinks she’s flying, when oxygen rushes back into her lungs- flying high on wings of white feathers. behind her, charles rubs the tip of his shaft over her; not giving mildred the chance to argue before he’s shoving his length right back into her. (she wants to scream. god, it hurts so much more now.) 

“goddamn, do you feel good..we have to do this again.” a sharp thrust, more tears. mildred can’t even speak- her vocal cords ripped out and bloody; a husk once useful. she was scooped out; but everything still hurt and her head was pounding. charles grunted and groaned from behind her- speeding and slowing down his thrusts until he came again with a low groan; white spread sticky on her back. he shakes his cock a little; little drops of his semen falling over the curves of her ass. when he’s done, he leans over to her bedside table; snatching one of her cigarettes from the box. (mildred remains on her knees- sobbing, and so, so empty.)

charles smokes his (mildred’s) cigarette until his dick goes soft and mildred falls to the bed. he puts out the cigarette on her ripped nightgown, getting up to dress himself. mildred sits splayed out on the thin sheets, covered in cum and shaking. (she feels dirty, and she wonders if her skin is tinged black with rot.)

the man tucks himself into his pants, fixes his collar, and doesn’t look at mildred when he ties his tie. “thanks for this, mildred,” he says, brushing a hand over his balding head, “we should do this again, yeah?”

she can’t answer. he nods to himself and walks out the door- not even bothering to say goodbye as he closes the door behind him. 

(mildred just sits, covered in cum and tired; still hearing the damn elephants and music- and cries.)

-x-

mildred was thirteen when her foster father slipped a hand up her dress. 

it had been a sunny sweaty day, then. the woman of the house had demanded that mildred and all the others (six, including her and edmund) clean the house; throwing each of them a rag and telling them not to bother her for a while. she and edmund had been the oldest- so they decided to help the youngest a little; showing them how best to polish cutlery or dust the curtains. (really, there was no need for any of them to be cleaning in the first place- but mildred was convinced that they did it because her foster parents just wanted to see them break a sweat. assholes- the both of them.) 

edmund was helping the youngest of the six; barely seven years old all together, with cleaning the windows. he lifted them (one at a time) on his shoulders- helping so that they could reach. the three were little, but he knew as well as mildred just what type of punishment would be in store for them if they became idle. johnny, only two years younger than both edmund and mildred- was sweeping; letting out little sniffles as he worked the length of the living room. (he hadn’t eaten in two days- a punishment for daring to try and sneak an extra piece of bread.) mildred was the only one who was scrubbing the floors; her knees bruised and back aching from the strain. 

she was alone; until she wasn’t. 

her dress was thin and ugly; rather a scrap of fabric than anything else. it was tattered, but it was her’s- mildred’s own little slice of protection. when she wore the dress; that mean old man with his cigars and his slaps wouldn’t see her- she would be nothing more than the little brunette, a big older than the other kids. it was as if her face and body was chalk, and the dress came along to mess it all up- leaving her as nothing more than a smudge. (she liked being a smudge- her bones and organs and flesh simply flesh colored nothingness.) 

soap bubbles. they got under her skin and made her breath stink of bleach. she scrubbed a little harder, and that’s when it happened. 

richard turner was a cold, mean man. he drank dark liquor and collected guns and fostered a gaggle of kids just for the money. he saw younger women when his wife was out- and would beat the kids black if they ever saw it happen. richard was a drunk; covering himself in suits and business meetings so no one could see the haziness in his eyes or smell the beer on his breath. he had eyed her- when she first came - but he was always too busy curled up in his office and fucking girls silly to do anything more than stare. mildred was fine with that, really. he was nothing more than a drunken pervert, and mildred was getting really good at pretending his gazes didn’t send vomit crawling up her throat. 

(it wasn’t enough. god, would it ever be?)

her spine stiffened as fat, too big fingers landed on the small of her back; the rag in her hand falling to the ground with a low SPLAT. she wished herself gargoyle-like; nothing more than a grayish statue that couldn’t be felt up or gawked at. (nobody groped gargoyles, no one would try.)

“c-can i help you, sir?” at the orphanage; mildred was taught manners. she learned of dinner etiquette and proper lady-like actions, and hated it when they taught her how to respect adults. she just couldn’t understand why calling someone “ma'am” or “sir” did anything; especially when they didn’t treat her, or anyone else at this fucking hellhole with respect. when she brought up her concerns- all she received was a slap to the bum and an increase in tranquilizers. (she didn’t bring up much about respect and etiquette after that.)

richard’s hand presses down slightly; making her knees buckle and her heart stop dead in her chest. “oh, don’t mind me,” he says, all fake-sweet and slurred, “keep on doing what you was doing before me.” 

“i can’t, i-“

suddenly he growls- and mildred realizes just how alone she really is. the world feels so fucking small, and fuck, she can’t even do anything when he pulls her hair back tightly. “if i say get back to work, girl,” he growls; tipping her head back that much further and making her fear it might snap- “you don’t question me. you bend over and fucking clean.”

his tight (too tight) grip on her hair is released, but mildred can’t even take the time to just fucking breathe because his hand on her back slides down and down and she’s so fucking scared. (she’s seen the women- no, girls- richard brings home; dodo birds barely two feet out of high school, and looking younger every time. how the fuck could she ever think she was safe from him as well?) 

it’s slow when he finally cups her; like he thinks she’s so painfully aroused that moving slow will soothe her (it doesn’t.) she chokes on a gasp- hands trembling as she grabs the rag and starts cleaning again. the soap bubbles pop, and his fingers trace along her undergarments almost lazily. 

“mmh, yeah, that’s a good girl.”

he groans it out when his says it; his voice all husky and rough and so fucking bone-chilling that mildred wants to crawl from her skin and set it on fire. she bends over- and that’s when it happens.

later, she will hesitate when she’s cleaning herself. her hands will pause right before they can reach her center, and she will think of his fingers; so rough and uncaring, holding her like all she was was just another pussy. (she probably was, and that scares the fuck out of her.) when she’s older and no longer that scared little girl- she will still think of that mean old man with his booze and his fingers and she will hate herself so badly for being scared stupid. 

now though, he runs a finger up and down her slit- trying to coax her into wetness. she becomes a rabbit; so small and ready for consumption- and that’s what sends her into tears. they are hot and leave messy trails on her cheeks; but he doesn’t even care- still running the tips of his fingers over the white cotton barrier. 

“you a pretty little thing, huh? you got the prettiest hair, y’know?” 

a hand back in her hair- ruining her curls. more bubbles pop, and mildred cries out. the hand grips tighter and her knees buckle and when he talks again he’s fuming mad.

“didn't i tell you to keep on working? when i tell you to do something- you do it.”

“please- let go of me, sir. p-please i- it hurts.”

he didn’t let go. (mildred was learning quickly that he- and so many others - didn’t give two fucks about what she said; especially if she begged. she was nothing more than a rabbit; too fragile and soft to handle the gnawing teeth of the world. god, how pathetic was she.) 

richard squeezes her once more before moving back with a huff; beginning to take off his pants with one hand. mildred sobbed- her hair fanning over her like a dark curtain and her lips spewing pleas for mercy. her dress was lifted and her undergarments were half torn and the bubbles were fucking everywhere. the blood in her veins froze solid, and when she heard his belt fall to the ground she feared her heart would explode in her chest- sticking to the bones like ribbons. he rubbed his hardness against her; groaning and drooling over her like a rabid dog. (he would eat her up like one too, she was sure of it. he would stuff her full and fuck her until she was just as dumb as the other whores- and she wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing. bunnies don’t fight dogs, and she was a rabbit- not a canine.)

“bet you gonna feel fucking great around my cock-“ whatever he was going to say is cut off as mariam turner- richard’s wife of many years (too many) - comes in the house; returning from her hour long shopping trip. she gapes at the two of them- quiet as a dormouse. her eyes were blown wide, and for a moment- silence hung heavy in the air. 

then, an explosion. 

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” she torpedoes over to them; raging and throwing her groceries down. richard stumbles- and when she slaps him silly he falls back with a heavy thump. mildred curls into herself and tries to cover her body- soap bubbles seeping into the fabric. she’s crying and mariam’s screaming at her and richard is on the floor- the others are rushing into the room. they stare at her shaking body; little amelia and huck stand close to edmund, looking close to tears, and when mariam hits her- they actually do start crying. 

“you slut! you’re nothing but a whore, who do you think you are- bending over for my husband like that?! i’ll kill you- i’ll fucking kill you, mildred!” 

“please,” she begs, scrambling away from the red-hot woman, “i didn’t want to! he made me, he-“

“you fucking liar! i let you stay in my house only for you to spread your legs like a bitch in heat to my damn husband?! you little skank- get the fuck out of my house before i kill you!”

another slap- mildred’s slipping on sudsy water. it’s so loud here; the kids are crying and her head is pounding and mariam is so angry- so gucking pissed that mildred wonders if this is how she dies. (a rabbit torn in two- guts sticky and red on the floor.) 

mariam pauses; and mildred takes the opportunity to run out the door- tripping over her feet and her soapy, sudsy dress. the world is a carousel around her- all blurry and colors mushed together. she could hear mariam’s voice; loud as a woodpecker and just as piercing- screaming on about things that made mildred wince and cry even harder.

(she didn’t come back home until the sky was dark and mariam was asleep. edmund and johnny let her in- passing her a piece of bread and some soup. 

she doesn’t eat it.)

-x-

gwendolyn brushes her fingers over mildred’s brow- bringing her back to the present. she blinks, and gwendolyn smiles softly at her. 

“hey, angel. where’d you go?”

mildred’s mouth feels dry; cotton shoved in her throat and her breaths coming out in small little huffs. she’s on her knees- staring down at gwendolyn’s dripping center; presumably in the middle of eating the woman out. (she doesn’t remember how she got here.) 

the brunette looks up to gwendolyn- mouth already forming an apology. the older woman stopped her before she even could; pulling mildred up with barely any effort at all- planting a slow kiss on her lips. (she could taste herself there; soft yet pungent. it sent a flood between her thighs- but she ignored it.) 

“you just spaced out on me, baby. i thought i killed you for a second.” 

mildred choked on a laugh, nuzzling her nose into gwendolyn’s. she could still feel richard’s hands and charles’s cock- both of them big and oh so painful; even now. (gwendolyn kisses her again; but all she still feels charred, her skin falling off like layers of an onion. she wonders- at her core if she is just as ugly and nasty as all of those men before her.) 

“are you okay?”

“oh, yes, of course. just got lost in my own head, a bit there. i’m fine, my love.”

“hmm,” she pauses to massage mildred’s back. “you know it would be fine if you weren’t, right?”

“weren’t what?” 

“fine. i never want to make you uncomfortable, baby, but that’s why i’m here. i want to hear about your problems- the turbulence in that pretty little head of yours.”

mildred blinks at that; her nails unconsciously digging into gwendolyn’s back. (red sparked in their wake, but gwendolyn didn’t pull away. she continued to stare at mildred- her eyes filled with only one thing; love.) 

“do you really mean it?” 

gwendolyn laughs a little; dropping her head to press a kiss against mildred’s neck. the two of them were pressed together- orange sunlight trickling through the windows. “of course, mildred. i love you, darling. everything about you,  
even if you think it’s weak or annoying.”

the nails dug deeper. “do you think i’m a slut?”

blue eyes blinked rapidly, before a hand came to mildred’s chin- lifting it with such care that mildred wanted to collapse into tears. “mildred,” she whispers, pulling her closer,”what’s all this about?” 

“i just-“ mildred huffed, her throat closing in on itself, “i feel like such a whore all the time. i’ve been used- passed around like a fucking hooker - and i guess just wonder how you can still look at me with so much love in your eyes. 

“mildred,” gwendolyn sighs; her big blue eyes swelling with tears. (mildred cursed herself- god, she was such a fucking idiot.) “mildred, i don’t see you as a whore. i mean, fuck, i would never see you as that. you are so much more than the people you’ve slept with, baby- so, so much more than that.”

“i don’t feel that way.” then came the tears, and mildred shook from the force of them. gwendolyn just held her close, hands running down her naked body. “i feel so dirty, almost all the time, and god- it hurts so fucking badly.”

“oh, baby…c’mon, talk to me, love. why do you feel like that?”

mildred didn’t want to answer; but a response came creeping up her throat- pricking the muscles around it with claws like that of rose thorns. she gasped when she answered; more tears streaming down her now flushed face. 

“i can still feel it, gwendolyn. i feel their fingers- slithering and squeezing and resting all over me, and how their cocks would stretch me like i was nothing more than taffy. fuck, i can still feel everything and it drives me insane.”

gwendolyn didn’t say anything; a second- no, two going by like years. (fucking idiot, her mind screamed. you scare off gwendolyn, now what?)

before her doubts could consume her whole- gwendolyn pressed another kiss to her lips; gently clasping her brunette hair. (she never pulled it- simply holding it like it was silken; something special to be valued.) “baby, i don’t care who you’ve slept with before me. i don’t care if you’ve had sex with men- or if you’ve kissed them or anything like that. as long as you’re still mine at the end of the day- i couldn’t give a shit what you did in the past. i love you, mildred, and i always will.”

her heart does something ugly at that- jumping in her chest and making her cheeks flush. mildred kisses her again to try and distract from it, hoping it will make the red spread over her cheeks go away. (it doesn’t, and she thinks gwendolyn can tell.) 

finally- when both their lips are kiss-bruised and the need for air becomes too strong; mildred pulls away and looks at gwendolyn. (love sits heavy in her blue eyes, and it steals mildred’s breath away.) 

“i love you, too,” she gasps, the feat almost torturous. gwendolyn smiles, and kisses her again.

“i love you too, baby.”

-

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment or a kudos if you liked this (:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)


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